


Don't Sugarcoat It

by ovisovis



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Age Difference, BDSM, Frottage, M/M, Masturbation, More Tags Coming Soon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-20
Updated: 2013-04-20
Packaged: 2017-12-09 01:08:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/768217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ovisovis/pseuds/ovisovis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What relief you had during the day while you busied yourself with work and household chores was dominated at night by an onslaught of thoughts that you had long since deemed inappropriate.  As much as you told yourself that if you ignored them, they would go away, you knew you were lying to yourself.  No amount of burying yourself in working, baking, or even relaxing in your study would wrench you from this perverted attraction.  And so you did what anyone might do in your situation.</p><p>You gave in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Sugarcoat It

At the time, he had been fourteen and awkwardly embracing adolescence even if he liked to pretend he had the concept of puberty trademarked. At the time, he had hardly a defined figure and his shirts overwhelmed that thin, scrawny body you were sure he was sporting. At the time, he had been rude and had had one heck of a potty mouth. At the time, you had doubted he would be a good influential friend for your son to have. At the time, you had resented both him and his older brother. At the time, you had been tempted to cut off all ties with the Strider family for the better upbringing of your only beloved son..

You are so grateful to your past self that you had resisted such temptations. But because you didn’t, new temptations have arisen and they are all proudly named as one and the same:

David Strider.

\----

After his first visit to Seattle, he continued to visit during the summers and every time, he’d remind you that ‘David ain’t his name.’ That ‘it’s just Dave.’ You always apologized and went about your daily business that involved either baking, cornering your son for a jovial pie-in-the-face (it was all in good fun, really!), or working. You would let the kids have their fun and take joy in hearing them laughing or goofing off upstairs in John’s room. He appeared to be a good kid, even if his language could use some improvement. You realized then, during his third week staying there for the second time, that he was starting to grow on you.

When both John and Dave were seventeen, you realized that he was growing on you in a way that you did not anticipate or want, for that matter. You were an upstanding citizen and you had liked to think that you contributed to society in a positive way. But it was when you woke up at three in the morning, cock straining against the thin fabric of your boxers and Dave’s name on the tip of your tongue, that you doubted yourself. What would John think of you, his father, if he knew you had just dreamt unsavory things of his best friend?

It was after that night that you kept telling John that no, David was not allowed over for the summer for whatever reason you could find would justify your decision in a way that John could not question or speak up against. So he found a new solution and you found yourself rather grateful for it. And so began the pattern of John leaving for Austin, Texas to spend two months with the Strider family. This left you to do what you need to do during the summer and also left you a good bit of time to reflect on your misguided affection towards the youngest Strider boy. Unsettled as you had been, you were glad that he wasn’t there, tempting you with the slight sway in his gait, the way he would bend himself over the counter in the kitchen when he was talking, the barely-there smirk, or the way his low voice would address you. ‘Mr. E’ was his title of choice.

What relief you had during the day while you busied yourself with work and household chores was dominated at night by an onslaught of thoughts that you had long since deemed inappropriate. As much as you told yourself that if you ignored them, they would go away, you knew you were lying to yourself. No amount of burying yourself in working, baking, or even relaxing in your study would wrench you from this perverted attraction towards Dave. And so you did what anyone might do in your situation.

You gave in.

\----

At first it was careful, the way your hand would slide beneath the fabric of your boxers as you lay in your bed. You were quiet, your breath light and soft, as though being quiet wouldn’t make the reality that you were touching yourself to a boy half your age any more real. But you allowed yourself to make some noise – a light groan here, an accidental slip of profanity there – and that was all right. But it was when you began to tease your fantasies, let them come to life behind your closed eyelids, that those noises you had kept reserved for the sake of preserving some shred of dignity got louder.

_Dave’s mouth was hot, his tongue pressing up insistently against the vein running along the underside of your cock. He was playful, experimental, testing the waters and teasing you. His hand was firm as it stroked the base of your erection, nimble fingers occasionally dropping down to cup your balls and give them a soft squeeze. You groaned, so desperately wishing to buck upwards into his mouth, but he never let you. His free hand was at your hip, resting there to caution you from getting any bright ideas. He’d take you in, slowly, inch-by-inch, those eyes of his, uncovered and a beautiful, bright red, watching you from his spot between your legs. He’d slide you down his throat, controlled, careful, before sliding back up and pulling off of you. You groaned every time, face prickling with heat as he lavished his tongue over your throbbing length, kissing up the shaft before he began to take you down his throat again. That’s when he’d start bobbing and it only took a few minutes before his name became a mantra, searing hot pleasure rolling up your body and he was there to swallow when you came._

It was only until you opened your eyes that the disappointment hit you and reality set in again.

\----

The summer after John (and Dave) graduated from their respective high schools, John started talking about big plans for the summer. It had become customary to ask if he was going to go spend the summer with the Striders but his answer was different this time around. “Dunno yet.” He said when you had asked. This answer alone, so devoid of any real excitement, put you on edge. You wondered if you should question it, ask him if there was something amiss between Dave and him, but you kept your mouth shut; the look on John’s face when he answered made you feel like you shouldn't ask right now. So you didn't. It was only a week later, when you heard a knock on your front door, that you really wish you had drilled the boy for every answer.

“I’ve got it!” John yelled from upstairs as you peered out and over the saloon-style doors that separated the kitchen from the living room. You could hear him scrambling around upstairs before his too-loud footsteps bounded down the stairs and he skittered to a stop in front of the door. You looked away, for only a moment, to rinse your flour-covered hands in the sink and dry them off with your apron, when you heard the very voice that haunted your fantasies, that made you cum shamelessly when you were alone and submitting to your secret desires. You stand there in shock, hoping maybe you were tricking yourself, when you chance a peek out of the kitchen.  
Standing there in the doorway was not one but two Striders, both with bags slung over their shoulders and in their hands. They looked to you as you took a step out from the kitchen, doors swinging behind you, dumbfounded and staring. Dave and his brother exchanged glances before looking to John. You looked at him too but he was sheepish as he pointedly avoided your stare. Before you could say a thing, be it a stiff greeting to the Striders or a sharp scolding directed at John, Dave spoke up before you with that perfect mouth curled into a subtle smirk.

“Missed me?”

**Author's Note:**

> wow ok, i haven't written in FOREVER.  
> nonetheless, i hope you guys enjoy this!


End file.
